Chivalric
by teawithmugi
Summary: There are a thousand ways to say you love someone, but none are good enough for Komachi. She and Karen deserve their own story, and Komachi means to write it with her own hands.
1. Romanesque

Komachi knew few sorrows greater than tossing a dozen scribbled pages into the trash bin, but she knew it had to be done. She put all her feelings into the paper, each page overflowing with them. But feelings, of course, were not enough for a good novel. Her words were too bland, sometimes too ornate. Her story moved too fast, so quickly that she could not enjoy the moment, but when she slowed down, the plot dragged on with the intensity of a dying slug. Everything she tried failed, every turn of phrase was hollow, and though she put her heart into it, every word that poured out of her pen was worth less than nothing. Into the trash it went.

She sighed and started again. The silence of the library was perfect for writing, and a hundred thoughts flowed freely across her mind, connecting to other thoughts, weaving a web of words that seemed elegant in Komachi's head. When she began to write, however, the strands tangled together, so close that by the time the words were on paper, Komachi could hardly understand what she was trying to convey.

But in her lonely silence, she had all the time and tranquility she needed to try again, and again, until her words were good enough. Komachi could not help but think, however, that it was a bit too quiet. The library had been almost empty for the past few days, since those awful rumors started. Girls whispered of a ghost in the library, a phantom that started roaming the school grounds. Karen tried to silence those whispers, to find the truth behind the tale, all in vain.

Odd, how that ghost seemed to be following that Yumehara girl incessantly… Maybe she was the one who was haunted, not the old library. That certainly would make for a more interesting story, at the very least.

But it was not the story Komachi wanted to write. Hers was not a ghastly tale, but something far more pleasant, far warmer. A love story, like the ones she so greatly enjoyed reading. Why, she had read countless of those, and she felt love's grip firmly on her heart, so it should have been so easy to write all her feelings.

The trash bin next to her desk, filled almost to the brim with her foolish words, was a constant reminder of how wrong she was.

This was silly, Komachi thought for a moment. She almost dared think that it would be better to just get up and tell Karen her feelings, but, thankfully, she silenced those pesky thoughts before they grew too loud. No, it was her ink that should do the talking, and her carefully chosen words, and her phrasing so perfectly cadenced that it became a song when it reached the tip of the tongue.

Not this garbage, though, that was just not good enough for Karen. This was something they had done in their time together; in their intimacy, they began to mold one another as they shared their interests and experiences and thoughts. Like water making its path between cliffs, abrading the stone, Karen changed Komachi, and in turn, like the shifting course of a river, Karen was changed by Komachi. Komachi's influence had turned Karen into a calmer person, and Karen had taught Komachi to seek perfection in all things, no matter the difficulty.

Right now, however, Komachi wondered if life would not be easier if that was a lesson she never learned. She just wanted to convey her feelings to Karen, not write a masterwork. Not that she could even if she so desired: Komachi was perfectly aware of her limitations. But a short, romantic tale… That she should be able to write.

With a sigh of frustration, she set her pen aside and rose from her chair. This was clearly going nowhere. Her legs were numb, though her fingers ached from the strain. A quick glance showed her that there were no other students in the library, so there should be no problem if she took a little walk, and looked for a spark of creativity hidden in the pages of one of the library's countless books.

And if she could not find inspiration in the library of L'École des Cinq Lumières, with more books than there were stars in the sky, then where else could she search?

One of her duties as librarian was to organize the volumes as well as she could, but that was something she scarcely found herself doing; when she enrolled into this school, all the books were already sorted out perfectly in their shelves, arranged in alphabetical order.

Each section of the library was dedicated to one kind of writing: textbooks, dictionaries, encyclopedias, prose, poetry, even photography. They were further organized by language: in their vast majority, they were written in japanese, though there was an abundance of ones in english, and in the northern, oldest portion of the library, were almost three thousand heavy tomes, all written in french. Komachi once chanced to read some of them, shortly after her first few french lessons, but that was a complete failure. Ever since then, she had not even touched them, and since very few students had any interest in them, she only had to organize them once every few months.

Her fingers ran across leather dust jackets, some rough to the touch, others so soft, almost like… Like… Karen's skin was the first image that came across her mind, and her cheeks flushed red at the thought. Komachi's lips curved into a shy smile as her whole body grew warmer, that pleasant warmth she felt when the thought of Karen caught her unaware, distracted. It was always a sweet surprise.

Komachi pulled a book from its shelf, and skimmed through. Unsurprisingly, she understood only a handful of words; this book was so old, its french was like a completely different language than that which she had learned. She put it back on its place (normally, students were supposed to bring the books they had read back to the librarian's desk so that she would later put them in their proper shelf at the end of the day. Being the librarian herself, Komachi saw no problem in just doing it now). Perhaps a translation would be of more help.

The translations were easy enough to find, as was everything in the library. Komachi's eyes scanned the tomes, in search of a title that captured her interest, that might, perhaps, give her an idea. A hundred names passed by her eyes, a hundred stories that might very well be wonderful, but they were a hundred stories that were not what Komachi wanted. She kept looking.

"Hm?" She asked aloud when her eyes caught on something that seemed interesting, and her stare froze on it.

_Collection of chivalric romances_. Not the most specific of names, so Komachi took it for further inquire. It was an anthology of tales whose authors were lost to time's tides, though their words remained. Stories of great knights earning the favor of their fair ladies with heroic deeds in battle, felling beasts shrouded in myth, or just proving their talent for slaughter in general… They were almost as barbaric as they were romantic, truth be told, but Komachi could not deny the appeal in holding the power to shield your beloved from harm, or to be wrapped in loving arms, to be kissed by soft lips with the promise of protection.

She knew the words she wanted now, she knew the tale she wanted to tell. Komachi returned the book, and ran back to her desk. It seemed as if no one had noticed her absence; though this talk of the library being haunted bothered Komachi a little bit, as she enjoyed seeing her fellow students smiling as they found a story they loved, and she found great pleasure in recommending them her own favorites, it was not all bad. She had silence, and peace. And time.

Komachi sat down and grabbed an unused sheet of paper. Of that she had plenty, as she tried to spend as much of her free time as she could writing down stories, or her thoughts, or phrases she thought sounded beautiful. She had a hundred grandiose sentences, paragraphs full of rhythm, verses with tight meter and evocative images, but she did not have a story to put them, much less a poem. Maybe now she would find an use for one or two of them.

She began her work, toiling her sentences as well as she could. They sounded much better in her mind than when she wrote them down, but there was no helping it. Though she longed for it, she had never reached perfection, and perhaps she would not reach it in a long time. She was still young, still inexperienced, but that did not keep her from portraying all the images in her head, all the feelings she had for Karen.

Karen… Komachi wondered, was she a princess, or was she a knight? She could not decide. Though Komachi would do anything to protect her, to earn her love, she was also fond of the idea of being kept safe by her. Karen was definitely much alike a princess: proper and beautiful, every gesture full of elegance, every word spoken in a kind but commanding tone. Her manor was very much a castle, too… Whenever she visited her friend, Komachi thought her house would be a perfect residence for nobility. Perhaps Karen truly was a princess, then.

But at the same time, she was like a knight. She shouldered as many burdens as she could, for the good of all those around her, and she always had a moment to spare for those who had need of it. And though she usually was the very picture of grace, her anger was something to be feared, and she had no patience or mercy for those who hurt others. Komachi felt so safe around her, too. She was Karen's only friend, and the one time Karen had ever been truly furious was when some girls scoffed at Komachi's love of writing. Her calm eyes agitated like a raging maelstrom, and her ferocity was like a rocky bay that was a danger to any ship.

Like the ocean, Karen was a thing of beauty, of serenity and life, but, at times, terrifying. Perhaps she was neither princess nor knight, Komachi thought. Karen was something else entirely, and that was one of the many reasons Komachi's love for her was so deep.

Maybe Karen was a princess who became a knight, she thought with a giggle. She could fight dragons herself, all the while maintaining her grace. But if that was the case, then what need would she have for Komachi? Maybe they were both princesses and knights at the same time, roaming the world together, protecting one another and those around them. That could be fun.

With words she painted a landscape and a small world for the princess-knights, she gave birth to all sorts of people in their way, she put words in their mouths, and entwined their feelings. In this world she made, her love for Karen was returned, and they were together, as close as two people could be. Komachi knew she could never be a knight, and she could never be a princess, but at least she and Karen could be together, and so she hoped that the world she lived in could become a little bit more similar to the one she had made.

When Komachi was finished and read it once again, she did not hate it. It was by no means perfect, she knew that, but it was as perfect as she could make it. And it made her feelings very clear, that was the most important part. Komachi was too shy to ask her out directly, and, besides, she felt as if Karen deserved something better than ordinary.

Certain that no one would visit the library right now, Komachi stepped outside, the sun hitting her face a bit too roughly. The school's library was not too brightly-lit, and after spending most of the day there, her eyes became accustomed to to it, and the sun outside was always a shock. Still, she wasn't too bothered, as it was certainly better than being trapped inside by a storm.

When school was over for the day, the campus of the Cinq Lumières was always full. It was not rare for students to spend their entire days there, taking part of club activities, or simply spending time with their friends in a place where they could eat and study together easily. The gardens were full of life, as were the corridors, and everywhere but the supposedly haunted library. Soon, Komachi knew, those rumors would die down, and the students would return there, and her hands would be full once again. She looked forward to it, but dreaded it at the same time, if only because it meant less time for her to write, and, perhaps, to be with Karen. There it was, that warmth again.

She gave a light knock to the student council room's door, that soon was opened. It wasn't Karen, which gave her some relief. If she had to watch Karen read her silly little story, and wait for her response, why, she might very well die of embarrassment.

Instead it was one of the other members of the council. Komachi did not see her very often, so she couldn't remember her name, much unlike Karen, who knew the names of everyone in the entire school. Ever since Karen had become president, the number of students in the council had become smaller with each year. Karen's perfectionism made her very competent at her duties, but also difficult to work with. Those who could not keep up with her often resigned, and Karen didn't mind that at all. She said she worked better by herself, being able to control and decide as much as possible, without interference. Though Komachi wished Karen would not isolate herself so much, it was not her place to tell her how to do her work, especially when she always showed excellent results.

"Please," Komachi put the folded papers on the girl's hand, "could you deliver these to Karen? F-For her eyes only…"

"Confidential information, is it?" She said with a goofy grin. Komachi didn't see the humor in that at all, and just wanted to disappear before being asked any questions. "I'll make sure the president sees it, Komachi. And should you be outside the library?"

"No," she admitted, "but everyone is afraid of the ghost, so there hasn't been hardly anyone in the library these past few days."

"Ha, they'd do well to be afraid of their coming exams instead," the girl said. "I think the president is going to take a stronger stance against those who start spreading these awful rumors around, and I can't say I disagree. That Yumehara girl is going to be so sorry if Karen calls her to our office for a private conversation…"

Those private conversations with Karen were the fear of the entire school. Students who did not behave properly were often called by Karen to the student council's office, to receive a stern talking… Or so it was said. The truth was that usually Karen just shared some tea with the offender, and politely asked them to mind their manners and not bother anyone. It was quite pleasant, really, and there was no reason to be scared, although Karen did the rest of the council to exaggerate what happened so that the threat could keep the students in line. It didn't always work, of course, and Komachi had no doubt that in just a few days, Karen would be having Nozomi Yumehara over for some tea.

"W-Well, just make sure she gets it," Komachi said, and before she could hear any jokes, she turned back and left.

It was a bit of a long way to the library, but Komachi didn't really mind; she passed by much of her school, and had the opportunity to pass by some friends, even chat with them sometimes, and admire the sights around the Cinq Lumières. The school was not only the greatest educational center of the region, it was also a marvel of architecture, decoration and gardening. It was almost like a neighborhood, in fact, a very pleasant one, one that Komachi was glad to spend most of her day in.

She retreated back to the dimness of the library, afraid that perhaps she would find a student there, furious at the fact that the librarian had sneaked outside, but there was still no one there, thank goodness. She sat down comfortably, and looked at the trash bin again, content with the fact that she did not fill it even further.

The deed was done, now; she had put her feelings into words, and had made sure they would be sent to Karen. All that was left now was waiting.

* * *

><p><em>This story is set in an alternate universe where Komachi doesn't have a squirrel fetish. God knows I wish it were canon.<em>


	2. Knight-Errant

"_From atop the rocky knoll, the knight overlooked the village she had sworn to guard. Her body was armored in heavy plate, but her flawless azure locks were flowing free against the winds, a crown resting upon them. The smile in her lips revealed her satisfaction in seeing her lands so secure. All the villagers there bowed to her, and they all knew her name, so it was only fitting that she too would know each of her names, and who they were, their occupations, their needs. Only so could she serve them as both princess and knight."_

Sometimes Karen wasn't so sure about Komachi's choice of words, though she never said it to her face. Flawless azure locks… Was this how Komachi thought of her? It was flattering, extremely so, but also more than a bit embarrassing.

Karen was usually a fast reader, but now she found herself clinging to each word, to each sentence, unable to let go, reading it again and again and again until they were close to her heart. This tale was overly-dramatic, sprinkled with sweeping phrases that Komachi no doubt thought full of grandeur and poetic beauty, but that were actually rather silly… Though Karen could not find it in her to laugh. They were Komachi's feelings, after all, and Karen shared them.

"_The green princess knelt beside the blue one, knees scraping on grey, rough stone. Her fingers reached out for her beloved's hand, deep eyes like verdant plains staring at the twin lakes of mirror waters in her dear knight's face, flickering as if asking for an answer, as if asking if her love would be returned."_

Karen smiled as she put the letter down on her desk. Komachi's words, melodramatic as they were, were one of the few things that could make her open a smile so wide. Komachi could easily have just approached Karen and confessed her feelings, as they could share anything with one another, and yet she wanted to write them down, so that Karen could reread it any time she wished, any time she missed Komachi, any time she wanted a small piece of her. She had always found that to be one of the most charming things about Komachi.

There was no doubt of what her answer would be. Komachi's feelings were Karen's as well, and their wishes were shared; their wish to be together, their wish to protect the other and be protected in return. Komachi often spoke of Karen as her knight in shining armor, shielding her from the poisonous words of bitter tongues, but it seemed that she had forgotten how good she had been to Karen as well. In fact, whenever Karen looked at her surroundings, she was reminded that Komachi had saved her from a monster far more dreadful.

Komachi had saved her from the cruel grasp of solitude. Just as its talons were closing in on her, just as she felt its fangs and she thought that she would never know friendship again, would never hear a kind word from someone who wasn't paid to say them, Komachi rescued her.

The wind blew the windows shut with a bang, and Karen found herself in the student council's office again, and not in the world Komachi had sculpted on her words. The world she made was beautiful and full of life, but here it was empty, cramped, and empty. As always, Karen was alone. Though there were still a handful of other students in the council, she was the first to start working and the last to leave, so most of the day, she worked on her own. On her desk were budget requests, suggestions hastily scribbled on pieces of paper by students, letters from universities that caught Karen's interests. All of them very important, but even so, Karen's eyes were fixed upon Komachi's story, and nothing else.

Karen reread the final lines with a smile. She loved each of Komachi's words, each of her sentences, all of her feelings. Even her handwriting; her letters were so round, their lines thick, as if Komachi had spent a long time working on them. Most likely, she had.

If so, then Karen had to return her feelings in a beautiful manner as well, but how? Pretty phrases did not bloom easily in her mind, and even if she tried her hardest, even if she worked on it from sunrise to sunset, until she couldn't even feel her fingers, it would still not have one tenth of the beauty of Komachi's writing. Karen was well-read, or at least she thought she was, but not nearly as much as Komachi. Her writing was clear enough, but too simple, too devoid of emotion, whereas Komachi's overflowed with it, and her words blossomed images so vivid that Karen felt as if she could just reach out and touch Komachi's worlds, her feelings. Her words were songs, Karen thought.

And then she knew. She closed the door behind her, done for the day, and set out to the castle of her beloved princess, the library of the Cinq Lumières. Karen found her own kingdom empty, the long corridors of the school, and its classrooms, its gardens, its canteen, all without a single soul to see.

At night, she thought, it certainly might look as if a ghost could roam this place. No wonder everyone was so eager to believe Nozomi Yumehara's rumors… And now she was not the only one spreading them, but Rin Natsuki as well. Somehow, Karen felt a sliver of disappointment, though she should have known not to expect more from her. Natsuki and Yumehara were always close, since they were young, everyone knew that, and they were exactly the same: loud girls who never measured their words.

No matter, Karen told herself. I can't talk to Komachi while I'm full of anger and worry. The wind was getting colder, and the blue began to fade from the skies. She had hoped to return home before dusk, but when she sat down to begin her work, she did not feel it would be right to leave until she was done. Karen was so focused on her paperwork that she only noticed that the sky's color was beginning to change when it was already painted a light orange.

It was always like this. She would work on her own, and then, when it was time to leave, she found herself alone in the deserted corridors, everyone else gone. What was the point of being the princess of an empty realm? I'm no princess, just a knight wandering about by myself, unsure of where to go, with only the wind to guide me.

No. No, that was wrong. She had Komachi to guide her. Her only friend. Sometimes those words sounded oh so sad, and Karen could tell from her eyes that even Komachi wished Karen would find more friends, but how? And, more importantly, why? So long as she had Komachi, she would never be alone.

Inside the library, it was even colder than it was outside, and there was a very slight smell of dust. Komachi never noticed it, but Karen could swear it was there. Maybe she had just grown used to it from spending most of her days there, reading, writing, and, hopefully, thinking of Karen. She hoped Komachi thought about her as often as she thought about Komachi.

"Karen," she said, her voice barely higher than a whisper, as if she had forgotten that there weren't other people there but the two of them.

"It's late, Komachi," she said casually, "we ought to go home soon."

"I know," Komachi pulled the book she was reading closer to her chest, and lowered her eyes. "I sent you a… A letter. Did you get it?"

Karen nodded, and Komachi's cheeks turned pink, almost red. She would never say it, but she really liked it when Komachi did that. For all the overly-elaborate metaphors she could weave, Komachi's feelings were all too easy to read.

"A-And what did you think of it?"

Smiling, Karen took lazy steps towards Komachi's desk, eyes scanning her surroundings. Countless shelves laid in rows, each one with countless books. The library only had classics of great aesthetic and emotional value, Komachi said once. In her heart, Karen knew that someday Komachi's books would be there as well.

"What I thought of it?" Karen repeated, pondering her own words. She stopped by Komachi's side. Komachi was shying away, as she often did when her embarrassment was too great too bear. Karen could effortlessly tell what each of her gestures meant, and she was sure that Komachi could do the same with her.

She took Komachi's hand, coiling their fingers together. She held them firmly, and caressed them. Karen lowered herself and softly kissed Komachi's hand, warm lips on cold skin.

"I'd call you my princess," she smiled, "but you'd likely explode of embarrassment, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not that bad, Karen," she laughed back. "I wouldn't explode, I'd only melt. All over you."

Their eyes met, and for the longest time, they just looked into one another. The two of them could spend hours chatting, but their moments of precious silence were just as wonderful, Karen knew. Words, after all, did not have to be spoken aloud to reach someone's heart. Right now, their eyes said more than any passionate declaration of love. If they could understand each other so perfectly with a single stare, why would they need to raise their voices?

"You didn't find it stupid, did you?" Komachi asked, her voice suddenly trembling. "It was a bit of a silly idea, wasn't it?"

"Maybe it was unusual," Karen said, her words tender, her voice like silk, "but I'd never think your feelings are silly or stupid or anything but beautiful. I'd love to be your knight, if you would be my princess," she pulled Komachi up, closer to her, "and the other way around, too. That would also be lovely."

"I'm glad you think so," she said, and where Karen's tone was full of calm, Komachi's cheerfulness seemed to lighten up everything around her. She sounded almost excited, but clearly tried her hardest to not be too loud, too agitated. This, too, Karen found very endearing. "I suppose I could have just approached you and told you, but…"

"I understand," Karen said. "Your shyness?" Komachi only nodded. "I see. You don't need to be shy around me, you know. I wouldn't laugh at you, never."

"It's not that," she explained. "I have the utmost trust in you, and I know you'd never hurt me. I just… Well, I can't help it, I guess. When you put your feelings into words like that, of course you'll be afraid. If you had to perform to someone, wouldn't you feel anxious, too?"

"I guess so," Karen said, though she couldn't see herself playing the piano for anyone else. It was something she did on her own. Her parents used to listen to her, sometimes, and even help her, but that was before they too left Karen alone. "All the same, I'm actually a little bit glad you didn't simply confess, you know," she admitted. "If you had, after all, I would never have the chance to read this story you wrote about us, for us. And," she approached Komachi, so that she could whisper in her ear, though there was no need for secrecy in the empty library. She just wanted her voice to caress Komachi as well, "I would have never gotten you to call me princess."

"S-Stop that!" Her face burned with timidity, but her lips were smiling.

And Karen smiled as well, her and Komachi's secret smile, hidden to the world. No one but Komachi had ever seen it, and Karen had no problem with that. To everyone else, she was stern, stoic, utterly dedicated to her work, and they'd never believe all the passionate words she could say, all the ways she could express her love, for those were secrets kept behind closed, solemn lips. Only Komachi had the key to open them into a smile.

"Komachi," Karen said at last, after they basked in their silence, "would you like to come to my house tomorrow? I'd like to play a song for you."

"A-A song? But you haven't played for anyone since-"

"I know, I know," she did not like to dwell on it. She had grown used to her parents' absence, but that did not mean it had stopped hurting. "But for you, I'd do it gladly."

"I'd love it, then," she said before kissing her princess' hand again. "I'll pay a visit to your castle then, Your Highness."

They shared laughter, echoing in the emptiness of the library. Even when they stopped laughing, they could hear it for a few more moments. Komachi seemed a bit embarrassed of her own voice, but Karen could think of few things she enjoyed hearing more.

But though she would have enjoyed spending eternity in this moment, alone with Komachi, she remembered the setting sun and the night's awakening, and knew she would soon have to leave. That did not mean leaving Komachi's side, not yet; the two returned home together, every afternoon, sometimes by car, sometimes in a pleasant walk where they told each other about their days. Karen always looked forward to it.

She was now thinking of a song that suited Komachi. Something beautiful, no doubt, but what more? Something tranquil could suit her temperament, but Komachi was often full of energy, when she was excited about something, or among friends, so a song like that would be wonderful as well. Though she could not decide, and though she went to sleep with a hundred songs playing in head at the same time, it did not bother her.

She finally had someone to listen to her songs.


End file.
